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THE 

Yale Literary Magazine. 

Vol. LVIII. DECEMBER, 1892. No. 3 

EDITORS FOR THE CLASS OF '93. 
WINTHROP E. DWIGHT. JOHN H. FIELD. 
FRANCIS PARSONS. RICHARD C. W. WADSWORTH. 

LEMUEL A. WELLES. 

COLLEGE IDOLS AND IDEALS. 

FOR those who share in the making of history, it is 
always difficult to see, even indistinctly, the tend- 
encies of the period in which they move. And for us 
who are at Yale and are the present makers of her history 
the question is extraordinarily perplexing; for the period 
seems marked by changes far more rapid and sweeping 
than the usually slow and conservative movement of col- 
lege ideas has hitherto shown. The changed spirit is no 
longer manifested merely in the passing of the old-time 
hazing and kindred customs, which, save for isolated 
cases of reversion, have long since vanished from the 
observation of everyone except certain witty but misin- 
formed newspaper paragraphers. We have not simply 
taken the initial steps which mark the transition from the 
boyish to the manly spirit — these have been history for 
a decade — but more than this, we are becoming worldly, 
and worldly, too, in the best sense; for while it is true 
that college brains and training do much to influence the 
thought of the outside world, it is no less certain that 
these qualities are shaping themselves more and more to 

VOL. LVIII. 8 



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92 Tke YaU Literary Magazine. [No. 513 

the needs of practical affairs. To the college-bred man 
the shock of the plunge he takes after graduation is mani- 
festly less severe than formerly ; while the College and 
the world are coming to understand that their relations, 
so far from being antagonistic, are in the truest sense 
mutually dependent. 

Nevertheless, graduates of years' standing come back 
and tell us we are not in touch with the world ; that they 
on the outside cannot comprehend the motives which 
guide the undergraduate in his actions ; that these 
motives are foreign to the world's idea of the manner in 
which we should live and act; and that with the world 
for a long time safe from the dangers of complete conver- 
sion to college ideas the awakening of the newly-fledged 
graduates is likely to be a sad one. 

In our sports, niost of all, the popular idea of the col- 
lege-bred man is formed, and so, at this time, when our 
representatives occupy so large a space in that mirror of 
the public mind, the newspapers, we hear much of this 
kind of admonition ; and we should heed it, for we must 
confess that of late, and in certain lines, we have out- 
grown ourselves and invited criticism. Take the example 
that the past few weeks has furnished us; we cannot 
deny that intercollegiate football, as now carried on, is 
far too important a branch of our curriculum ; it is only a 
part of our athletic system, yet it serves to show the tend- 
ency of the whole; what was primarily for the pleasure 
and benefit of a great number is to-day hard, scientific 
work and solely for the few. We consider a champion 
team a necessity; no one thinks to ask whether the mass 
of the men in the University are strengthened to 
serve the world better because eleven of them stand 
before the country as having reached the highest degree 
of perfection in running and dodging. We have made 
athletics a business; few think how outsiders look upon 
the spectacle of men, supposedly of especial brain-power 
and ostensibly engaged in the cultivation of it, appearing 
publicly in an exhibition which, for all its fashionable 
gathering of spectators and its ever-increasing importance 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Exchanae 
Yale Onivorsity 
Library JAN 3 '40 
Dec, 1892] College Idols and Ideals. 93 

in the newspapers, is in the mere physical and mental 
act on no higher plane than that of a match between 
Sullivan and Corbett. And yet all this is forgiven, for- 
gotten, in the effort to give to our friends the enemy the 
small side of the score at Springfield ! 

We must admit, then, that the system of athletics which 
has grown up among us contains two radical defects — it 
has established a standard so high as to bar the average 
man from participation in it and to leave him pulling 
chest-weights in a gymnasium ; and it makes the athlete a 
man who exhibits himself not merely as an indirect recipi- 
ent of gate money, but as one who, though educated, is 
gaining public attention not through any excellence of 
his mental training and skill, but by what has been well 
called the glorification of brute strength ; not but that 
full justice must be done to the skillful generalship and 
machine-like precision in action ; with all this, and more, 
the ideal is still physical rather than intellectual. 

Besides these two evils, a third effect presents itself. 
Both in our eyes and in his own, the athletic standard 
tends to obscure any judgment of the man himself. Prom- 
inence in athletics too often serves to gloss over certain 
poor qualities or to excuse the lack of good ones. 
Merely through his physical ability to run in record 
time or follow interference for forty yards around the 
end, a man is privileged to be judged on another stand- 
ard than that by which his fellows abide ; he is exempted, 
set on a higher plane, idolized. But in this condition the 
athlete is simply the resultant of well defined social 
forces. Not himself, but the community is to blame for 
his false position; for these college years in which we 
live, if they have any significant movement within them, 
are surely marked by the tendency toward raising up 
idols among us. If with the right foundation, this would 
be a most valuable stimulus to ambition in others, but it 
is based on a fictitious valuation; for what one of the 
athletic leaders of the past generation has made himself 
more useful to the world and to himself solely through 
his knowledge of athletics? He has, almost uniformly. 



zedbyGoOgIc 



94 The Yali Literary Magagine. [No. 515 

succeeded in proportion as he has gained the mental 
training for which he came. 

The near-sighted, one-sided, many-cornered grind is 
hardly further from the ideal than the graduate of a 
purely athletic course. We want here a standard, an 
ideal, which will not force a man to instance physical 
disability as the sole hindrance to his gaining a position 
in athletics ; which will not teach a man in his early years 
that the 0. B. K. key is a badge of ridicule ; which will 
not make a man ashamed to acknowledge that in his col- 
lege life he is setting before himself and the world, as 
his main endeavor, the accomplishment of the purpose 
whereunto he was sent. 

Richard C. W. Wadswortk. 



A SONNET. 

The summer'a corn in gracerul snay 

Bowed deep and Ion from its stately height 

With flutConng ribbons lichlj dighl, 
Tossed about in Ihe breezes' pUy, 
Resplendent pageant, glad and gay. 

This mighty host with tossing cresl 

And bristling speai in banner dtest 
Marshalled in Triumph's bright array. 

The Autumn wind through fettered rank, 

Stirring its streamers dimmed and frayed. 

Chanted a dirge with stifled moan 
And sighing far in the distance sank, 

For the harvest sickle's fateful blade. 

Like Father Time's, had claimed its own. 

Thai. Frederick DavUt.Jr, 



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Dec. iSga] The J anus of the French Literary Cycle. 



THE JANUS OF THE FRENCH LITERARY 
CYCLE. 

THE election of Pierre Loti to a place amongst the 
Forty Immortals was not so much a triumph for 
Loti as a backhanded blow at Zola and his principles. 
If the figure is pardonable, the ship 'of progressive 
morality had sailed, stealthily, into cleaner seas, and M. 
Zola had, all unwittingly, fallen overboard. A few ad- 
mirers raised a cry of alarm and would doubtless have 
essayed to rescue M. Zola, but he was in familiar waters 
and satisfied to swim about until the waves should wash 
him silently into their shadows and oblivion. 

Zola had been looking to the age that was dead — an 
age which, with all its wisdom and eloquent drollery, had . 
died to furnish a fertilizer for the age that was to come. 
The main current of Romanticism continued to flow as 
tranquilly as if nothing had happened, — save, perhaps, 
the drying-up of an impure tributary. But this was no 
sudden revolution, for the causes of it may be traced in 
an unbroken series to a period more remote than the 
reign of King Francis I, " Father of Letters and Arts." 

In the sixteenth century Frenchmen were still strug- 
gling under the inherited incubus of ignorance and moral 
pollution. Jongleur and trouvfere had long since ceased 
to sing, and high-born lady and gentleman began to seek 
culture or diversion in the endless pedantry and studied 
immorality so characteristic of the early days of the 
Renaissance. Few could read, though many listened. 
Thus the writer was a despot, and popular criticism was 
an unknown force. 

The modern age begins with Ronsard and Rabelais, — 
that is, with elegant imitation and witty indecency. 
Rabelais set his goddess — or, more accurately, his patron 
saint — upon a golden pedestal, and covered her with a 
sparkling veil. His goddess is License; the veil is Mirth, 

Zola idolizes nature, but his idol is false and its attri- 
butes are life's sordid realities. The devotees of Zola's 



zedbyGoogIc 



96 The Yale Literary Magasine. [No. 513 

shrine make Naturalism their religion. They would 
analyse every emotion of the human heart. For them there 
is no Great Unknown. Like an all-wise anatomist, Zola 
would endeavor to feel every throb in the pulse of 
humanity. No detail, however loathsome, — provided 
it may contribute to a complete understanding of base 
nature — is suffered, even for Art's sake, to pass unnoticed. 
" Honi soil ^«f tnal y pense" becomes a superfluous 
truism. Zola mentions the unmentionable. 

He is immoral, and the new age discards him. New 
men and new principles had made an irresistible appeal 
to the deities of French art; 'and the Academy, — that is, 
the learning and taste of France, — favored the appeal so 
unanimously that " Great Olympus shook." As the god 
Janus had two heads, one looking to the past, the other 
to the future, so Loti and Zola stand back to back, and 
Loti looks toward the new era. 

But Pierre Loti is not merely the champion of a re- 
newed morality. He represents a new literature whose 
canons are purity, brevity, beauty, and whose field is the 
world. People have grown tired of the long-winded 
novel of past days. The slang expression " hustle " is as 
indicative a sign of the times as the stage coach is ex- 
pressive of the spirit of half a century ago. The greater 
part of us try to live two lives in one, and, sadly enough, 
the mass of the people are buried in their newspapers 
and short stories while the educated minority continues 
to read its old-fashioned novels. The practical man per- 
severes in the chase of his ignis fatuus and credits himself 
with being well up to the times. But, after all, the gayly 
caparisoned horses, the Becky Sharps, the Jeanie Deans, 
and the other fascinating beings of the effete literature, 
will still have a charm of romance for those who worship 
the old gods as well as the new. 

Richard Thayer Holbrook. 



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Carpe Diem. 



CARPE DIEM. 

Let us bo merry (o-day, Lovo ; 

To-morron— who can tell?— 
A shadow may croM our way. Love, 

A shadow cold and fell : 
So let us be glad while we may, Love, 

Be glad while all is well. 

I've Tears lot the darJc to-morrow. 

To-day we know is bright ; 
I shudder lo think thai sorrow 

May steal upon us to-night: 
Tbea let us for merriment borrow 

Tbe last few bours of light, , 

Ob, tbe evening-star is rising, 

The sun is sinking low I 
Come, no more of thought and advising — 

See t away tbe day dotb go. 
Like a child that fears chastising ; 

What will follow we cannot know. 

LutktrH. Ttttiiir,Jr. 



CHILDREN OF A LARGER GROWTH. 

THE late Minister lo the Court of St. James is being 
entertained at a very select gathering. His brother 
the Great Banker is here too. Doctor is here: so is 
Lawyer. Bishop sits on the right of the late Minister, 
Merchant on the left. 

Lawyer and Doctor are conversing. Lawyer is a small, 
wiry man with great breadth of forehead, small, sharp 
eyes and long tapering fingers that play nervously with 
his wine glass. What does Doctor think of recent elec- 
tion ? After a searching survey of the decanter in front 
of him. Doctor thinks it was very satisfactory — yes, very 
— but a liltle too much "machine" and "iossism" in it. 
Rather alarming in fact. Lawyer agrees, quite. After a 
pause, what does Lawyer think of our late Minister? 



zedbyGoOgIc 



98 Tht Yale Literary Magaetne. [No. 513 

Fine looking man, isn't he ? Lawyer looks down the table 
to the head where sits the late Minister. The white 
cloth, Ihe glistening silver, the sparkling glass, the rows 
of shining shirt-fronts, all go to his heart and he sips his 
wine with the air of one who takes pride— ^aj/ pride — io 
being in such good company. Yes! fine looking man. 
A little-er-pufFed up, perhaps? Lawyer dosn't like to 
seem fault finding but it had struck him that it was so. 
Doctor thinks, — perhaps, — perhaps. 

Late Minister wants to know what Bishop thinks of the 
recent Ecumenical Council at Rome? Bishop is large, 
stout and deliberate. Bishop thinks — very deliberately 
— it was — well. Bishop doesn't know exactly how to ex- 
press it but in his opinion it was a little revolutionary — 
yes, revolutionary. Merchant is surprised, for Bishop is 
ot such a progressive nature ! Bishop thinks, yes — but 
temperance in all things, temperance in all things, my 
dear Sir. Bishop always advances his opinion slowly, 
conclusively and with much the same air of superiority 
as characterized papal arbitration between mediaeval 
kings. Merchant would like to know if late Minister is 
acquainted with My Lord Pembroke of Pembroke? Yes? 
Very pleasing man, isn't he? Fine place, fine horses, 

fine . No ? late Minister has never visited him ? Too 

bad, too bad. Merchant has spent many an enjoyable 
evening with him. Charming wife,, he has, charming! 

Host rises at the other end of the table and after a short 
speech — very witty speech. Lawyer thinks; Doctor 
agrees wholly — thinks that everyone would be delighted 
to hear from late Minister. The little hum that follows this 
dies out around the table and late Minister rises slowly. 
He is sure it is a great honor to be pernjitted to speak to 
the company. Lawyer smiles and thinks it is. Late 
Minister has dined at times where every place was My 
Lord's or His Honor's and one His Royal Highness's 
but here every place is His Majesty's — His American 
Majesty's — and the honor is so much greater. Everyone 
applauds. Lawyer smiles at Doctor who thinks it was 
very good — very good indeed. Bishop smiles with papal 



Digitized byGoOgIc 



Dec., 1B93] Children of a Larger Growth. 99 

superiority. Late Minister remembers very well talking 
at one time with My Lord of Terry, when his govern- 
ment was in, — Lawyer smiles slightly — who said that he 
considered it a great honor — perhaps the greatest honor 
— to be an American citizen. He pauses for everyone 
to go a little farther with the idea and apply it to the 
representative of all American citizens, which everybody 
does. It is very gratifying to see that he is appreciated. 

After Late Minister has finished, Host rises again and, 
after another short speech — very witty speech, Lawyer 
thinks again. Again Doctor agrees wholly — calls on 
Editor. This honor is wholly unexpected by Editor who 
has come only to look modestly on. He pauses for a 
moment and knocks the ashes off of his cigar. 

* # » » * # 

Later in the evening the two brothers were standing 
together, looking out of the window. One had his hand 
on the other's shoulder and there was something loving 
in their manner toward each other. Difference of pursuit 
had led them apart in life and they had not seen each 
other for many years. 

Outside it was snowing. The roofs of the buildings 
were white and the lights glistened on the flakes, newly- 
fallen on the ground. There was no wind and the snow 
fell slowly and softly, gradually effacing the tracks of feet 
and wheels. The very last of the Christmas shopping 
was being done and now and then someone, heavily loaded 
with bundles, would hurry out of a shop and homeward. 
Presently the two men turned away and sat down before 
a fire that burned cheerfully on the hearth. The blaze 
leapt high up into the blackness of the chimney and now 
and then great showers of sparks deluged the hearth. 
They sat silent for a long time, watching the fire and 
occasionally the one glancing at the other with a happy 
smile. Presently the Late Minister said : 

"Christmas isn't what it used to be for us, is it, Bob?" 

The other shook his head while the smile on his face 
took on a little sadness. Neither said anything for awhile. 
Then the Banker, a little embarrassed, said : 



ngilizcObyCoOglc 



lOO The Yale Literary Magazine. [No. 513 

" Say, Will, do you ever-er ." He pushed a glowing 

coal across the hearth with his foot. 

" Do you ever-er-hang your stocking up now ?" 

The other leaned back and laughed. 

" No, Bob," he said, " I haven't done it for a long, long 
time." 

" Sometimes," said his brother, " I think I'd like to, just 
for the sake of the old times. The old times you know, 
when we used to hang them, all of us, in Mother's room. 
Do you remember how old Frank used to come up early 
in the morning and poke his grinning face in the door and 
shout " Chris'mus Gift \ Miss Carrie ; Chris'mus Gift ! 
Mars' Will." Poor old boy, I guess he's dead and gone 
now." " Yes" said the other, and both looked into the 
blaze again. Presently the one said, 

" Yes, Bob, sometimes on Christmas Eve, I do feel as if 
I'd like to, just as you say ; just for the sake of the old 
times." 

The fire was quieter now and burned steadily. Neither 
spoke nor looked at the other but both into the lire and 
their hearts were full, for they were nearer "the old 
times " than they had been for a long, long time. Then 
the older one broke the silence and his voice was unsteady , 
as he said, 

"And, Bob, last Christmas Eve, I sat by myself and I 
got to thinking about our Mother" — His voice broke and 
it was a minute or two before he went on. 

" — Our Mother, Bob, who is in Heaven — and just before 
I went to bed, I knelt down — I couldn't help it — and, 
almost before I knew it my lips had said, 

" Now I lay me down to sleep " — 

He could not go on, but looked long into the fire. 
Presently he looked at his brother, then leaned over and 
put his arm around his neck and said, in a trembling voice 

" God bless her. Bob." 

And the other, sobbing like a child, repeated " God 
bless her, God bless her." 

La/on Allen. 



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Friendship. 



FRIENDSHIP. 

It i*si9 a harp of olden lime, 

None koevT the secret of its striogs ; 
A world of melodjr divine 

Men pass'd. intent on other things, — 
Until there came a harper giay, 

Whose Boal was nrapt in mysteiy. 
And 'neatb whose sympathetic sway 

All discord chang'd to harmony. 

What power, my friead, is ibis, divine. 

Which we but feel, that gently came 
And link'd thy dissonant heart with mine. 

In one inspiring, heavenly strain? 
Who is thai harper calmly stealing 

Across our lives, harsb though they be, 
And with a magic art revealing 

New worlds and thoughts for you and me ? 

Burton J. ffetuirUt 



THE REFORMS OF JOSEPH ADDISON. 

IT has been said that Addison's morality was " a sort of 
common-sense applied to the interests of the soul," 
and that he " rested his faith on a regular succession of 
historical discussions," but no one who reads his sacred 
verses can doubt for an instant the purity and sincerity, at 
least, of his religion. Thackeray can hardly fancy "wheo 
this man looks from the earth, whose weaknesses he de- 
scribes so benevolently, up to the Heaven which shines 
over us all, a human face lighted up with a more serene 
rapture; a human intellect thrilling with a purer love 

and adoration than Joseph Addison's When he 

turns to Heaven a Sabbath comes over that man's mind." 
In everything about him he saw the great Creator of all 
in whose infinite goodness he had the firmest faith and 
for whose blessings he was always profoundly thankful. 
And with this deep religious feeling he had a wonderful 



zedbyGoogIc 



I02 The Yale Literary Magasine. [No. 513 

peace and good-will toward men. The troubles and 
anxieties of bis life were by no means few, yet among' 
them all he was calm and serene, like 

" A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards 
Has ta'en with equal CbauLa." 

It was not, however, so much this religious feeling it- 
self that fitted Addison so peculiarly for what work he 
did as a reformer of men's minds, as the fact that with all 
this morality he never went to extremes. While he had 
no share in the refined vulgarity of the courtiers, he was 
no long-faced, black-clothed Puritan who saw nothing but 
a snare in beauty and whose only intellectual pleasuroe 
lay in sermons. He was a man of the world, who had 
traveled and studied men and things as well as books, 
and it necessarily followed from his character of mind 
and from his education that he could see the follies of 
each of the two great sects into which the England of the 
time was divided. The reaction against the hard Round- 
head government together with the Restoration had 
formed a party of society and of the Court whose creed 
was as far as possible removed from that of the sturdy 
but narrow supporters of the Long Parliament. But the 
wave of reaction swept too far, and the evils of license 
soon took the place of power instead of the evils of fanatic 
government, while the remnants of the Puritan faction, 
not yet crushed, continued to carp at the vices of the 
Court, with the only effect of increasing the popularity 
of loose morals and profligacy. It was into the breach 
between these two parties that Addison stepped with the 
Tatler and Spectator. 

There are two kinds of reformers — the traditional re- 
formers, men who fight against public opinion and who 
can see nothing good in the present state of things. 
These men overreach themselves, and their violence re- 
pels those whose adherence is most needed. Of this 
stamp, in a low grade of course, are the Hyde Park ora- 
tors and those who harangue mobs in Trafalgar Square. 
The other class is composed of men who understand hu- 



zedbyGooglc 



Dec, 1891] The Reforms of Joseph Addison. 103. 

man nature better than their brothers, who do not begin 
with violent measures', and who see that to call men fools- 
and dupes is no way to improve them. Instead of strug- 
gling against the current, they turn it gradually aside, 
and before it is realized the river is flowing in a new 
channel. 

Of this latter sort was Joseph Addison. He was essen- 
tially a refined gentleman. He possessed delicate tact 
and taste to a remarkable degree. Surely no one was 
more unlike the conventional reformer than this man,, 
and it was probably for this reason that he succeeded so 
well. He understood that social reforms could never be 
brought about by sledge-hammer blows. He saw clearly 
where Jeremy Collier had failed. He knew that invec- 
tives appealing to only the sober and thoughtful part of 
a nation would never be effective; he ntust appeal to all, 
and especially to those upper classes from which the 
great mass of the people took their cue. When he sent 
over from Ireland to his friend Steele his first contribu- 
tion to the Tatler he certainly did not know the- full ex- 
tent of his ability. The idea of the paper pleased hira 
and Steele had asked him to contribute. But this novel 
kind of literature was the best possible vehicle for Addi- 
son's rather peculiar genius, and it was in this primitive 
journalism that his power told to the best account. In 
the Tatler and Spectator he " made morality fashionable " 
and effected the work of a great reformer. 

The Tatler soon grew popular, and before it was fol- 
lowed by the Spectator success was assured. The papers 
not only became popular but fashionable — ladies read 
them over their late breakfasts and came to regard them 
as part " of the tea-equipage ;" powdered and ruffled 
beaux read them in their sedan-chairs between visits. 
They were clear, easy to read and understand, and they 
were most interesting. Two chief factors in their success 
were that they were neither partisan or personal. There 
was satire and ridicule, but directed against classes and 
types, not against individuals. The people felt the satire 
though it was never biting or fierce. The refined, balf- 



DgitizedbyCoOglC 



104 Tht Yale Literary Magazine. [No, 513 

concealed humor was very delightful. Men began to see 
their follies and weaknesses as they never saw them be- 
fore, and they began to understand that one could be up- 
right without being a Puritan and that one could enjoy 
himself without being a profligate. Neither party was 
spared the gentle lash — the suUenness of the Puritan was 
laughed at and fashionable libertinism was shown to be 
foolish and senseless as well as vicious. " So effectually," 
says Macaulay, "did Addison retort on vice the mockery 
which had recently been directed against virtue, that, 
since his time, the open violation of decency has always 
been considered among us as the mark of a fool." It 
came over the " wit " and the Puritan alike with the force 
of a revelation that they could occupy a great deal of 
ground in common. 

Surely a writer could set himself no harder task than to 
create an honest and upright " public opinion," yet as tar 
as any man can succeed in this Addison succeeded, and 
with such a kindly and gentle voice did he preach and 
chide that a social revolution had taken place before men 
knew it. They did not see that he was a reformer in those 
days and in this fact lay in a great measure the secret of 
his success. 

He displayed his taste in not limiting himself to attacks 
upon the great social questions, but in taking note of- the 
little things, that after all, when taken together, make up 
such a great bundle. To-day we can laugh with Mr. 
Spectator at Clarissa's vanity in her patches, or at the 
tremendous size of Sempronia's hoops as she alights from 
her chariot to shop in the Strand. The Spectator brings 
vividly before our Nineteenth Century eyes the streets and 
drawing-rooms and coffee-houses of old London in the 
days when wits and beaux were in fashion and Queen 
Anne ruled at Hampton Court. The men and women in 
these pages are alive. We can easily imagine Mr. Spec- 
tator himself walking up and down on 'Change or later 
in the day strolling down Fleet street to his pipe and 
company of friends at Button's or Will's. They must 
have looked for him eagerly at these haunts of his, for 



zedbyGoogIc 



Dec. 189a] Wordsworth. I OS 

though he was silent in much company, among his own 
familiar friends he threw aside his reserve and became 
the most delightful of companions. " I have often re- 
flected," says Steele, " after a night spent with him, apart 
from all the world, that I had had the pleasure of con- 
versing with an intimate acquaintance of Terence and 
Catullus, who had all their wit and nature heightened 
with humour, more exquisite and delightful than any 
other man ever possessed." And even Pope is con- 
strained to admit that "his conversation had something 
in it more charming than I have found in any other man." 
Francis Parsons. 



WORDSWORTH. 

Not for a kindred reason ihee we praise 

Wilh those who in their minstrelajr are lords 

Of elfin pipe and witchery of words, 

Masters of life who thread its tangled maze 

And on strange comers turn their curious gaie. 

Nor those who delve for jewels in [he hoards 

Of old philosophies, of love's soft wajs 

Sing variously, or chani of clashing swords, 

Rather for sympalh]i with the secret laws 

Which are themselves but sympathies, that the worn 

Find here a " still Saint Mary's Lake," because 

"The world is too much with us" and through thee 

" Old Triton " sometimes blows on " wreathed horn " 

A Blful note, clear from infinity. 

Arthur W. Colhn. 



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Tht Yale Literary Magaxine. 



THE SONGS OF THE WANDERING STUDENTS. 

WHEN searching the pages of musty chronicles, de- 
famed and soiled by habitual disuse, how startling 
the voices from a distant epoch that find echo in the 
life around us ! Peering into the uncertain half-light of 
the Dark Ages, our notions of which are apt to be so ill- 
conceived, we are confounded at its revelations of char- 
acter. For we leam that men lived and felt very much 
as men do now. They had serious aims, as well as 
a carelessness of moral duties ; refined self-culture, as 
well as a base servility to passion. There was hard work, 
too, as well as a consecration of man to pleasure as his 
ultimate object of existence. We see life — but in antique 
make-up. 

Such revelations come to us when we read the songs of 
the "Wandering Students," that guild of young men that 
arose in the Middle Ages, who, roaming from university 
to university, in search of knowledge, led a wild, free life 
of vagabondage. " The scholars," wrote a Froidmontine 
monk of the Twelfth century, "are wont to roam around 
the world and visit all its cities, till much learning makes 
them mad ; for in Paris they seek liberal arts, in Orleans 
authors, at Salerno gallipots, at Toledo demons, and in 
no place decent manners." 

But who these " Wandering Students " were is a matter 
of comparatively trifling importance. - To know how they 
lived and what they sang is more essential. Their songs, 
composed for the most part by cultivated men, savor little 
of scholasticism but are distinctively popular. They de- 
clare not one man's feeling, but a thousand. — Where were 
they born? Perhaps on the shore of some blue Italian 
lake, beneath spreading pines and olive trees, with the 
snow-capped Apennines rising in the distance. There 
soft winds are blowing, laden with myrrh and spice, and 
the meadows are pink and gold with the buttercup and 
ragged robin. Or, again, in Germany, where the linden 
offered its grateful shade to the itinerant gownsman as he 



zedbyGoogIc 



Dec, i8oa] The Songs of the Wandering Students. 107 

lay, on summer days, dreaming of love and the wine cup. 
But what matter to the singer! Once created they were 
scattered abroad, like seeds upon the wind, and sprang 
up, wherever they chanced to fall. They became the 
property of him who was willing to don the insignia of 
the order and tramp abroad, as the author had tramped, — 
anywhere under the free air of heaven. For, 

"This our sect doth entertain. 

Just men and unjust ones ; 
Hall, lame, weak of limb or brain, 

Strong mea and robust ones." 

They tell of vagabond existence ; of golden goblets full 
of honey-laden wine ; of springtime and of love. But it 
is a pagan love. That of Lancelot for Guinevere is 
completely foreign to their spirit. The Tuscan damo 
sings his simple love song — passionate, but tender, seated 
on summer evenings beneath the window of his madonna. 
The Provenjal troubadour sings of noble ladies. The 
wandering scholar sits in a dingy pot-house, surrounded 
by his companions, and sings of rustic maidens; while the 
wine goes round, the dice rattle in the boxes, and merri- 
ment is concluded only at the bottom of the quart pot. 

Winter has few charms for the vagabond student. His 
habits are vagrant. He seeks love adventure in the wood- 
land depths or as he rolls off down the open road, singing 
with provoking recklessness, — 

"Take the pastime that is due 

While we're jei a Maying ; 
1 am young and young are joa : 

'Tls the time for playing." 

It is when fields are laughing, when the pregnant earth 
makes "the wild woods grow green again," that he begs 
men to shake off old sadness. Winter's rage is over, and 

" Cylherea bids ibe young be gay." 

These songs have novelty and literary charm, but are 
not altogether pleasing as a product of mediasval art. Of 
patriotism, of virtue and domestic piety there is none. 



DgitizedbyCoOglC 



io8 The Yale Literary MagoMim. INo. 513 

All the enthusiasm of the Crusades finds no expression 
here. One lament for Coeur de Lion, one song to Saladin, 
and the heroic spirit dies away. 

But, without noble feeling, some are realistically beau- 
tiful. They are spontaneous, careless, and hence natural. 
They have at times all the grotesqueness of mediaeval 
architecture. There are outpourings of feeling, soiled, it 
is true, by a bold openness of speech, but with a wealth 
of imagery that belongs to true poetry. The tenderness 
is only half real ; the spirit has not the purity of the truly 
romantic. But the touch on nature is delicate. 

'' Now the summer dafs are btaoming. 
And the flowers ibcir chaliced lamps for love UlumiDg." 

• And, speaking of spring, 



" Od his lair brow in i 
Bloom empurpled n 



These songs are preliminary to those of the Renais- 
sance and stand alone in a mutable period, wavering be- 
tween good and evil, advance and retrogression. 

Ralph Reed Lounsbury. 



DECEMBER. 

The dotard year gropes toward the close 

Of bis brief life, and fain would bind 
Fond eyes with folds of swirling snows — 

Make mertf al our Hoodman-Blind, 

I laugh to scorn the wrathful skies — 

Grim Roysierer, thy jest is vain; 
Blind Love, who hath no need of eyes, 

Shall lead me lo ihe light again. 

Ritkard H. WerihingloH 



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NOTABILIA. 

The manifestly unjust state of affairs under which 
Yale has labored in the matter of foot-ball makes the 
recent victories all the more honorable. But it is per- 
fectly apparent that such a condition of things ought not 
to continue another year. In the heat of the moment and 
in the perfectly natural disgust caused here by the be- 
havior of one of our rivals, the first thing that occurs to 
one's mind as a remedy is to give up the Springfield 
game, though it is by far the pleasantest game of the two 
in its surroundings and in the crowd that attends it, and 
confine our foot-ball to the contest with the university 
that has of late treated us fairly and justly. We would 
certainly be doing our share if we rowed Harvard and 
played foot-ball with Princeton. From one standpoint 
this would be best and from another it would not, and on 
the whole the arguments from the latter position are the 
strongest. The matter will probably result in each of the 
three universities playing two games. 

We flatter ourselves here that we have learned how to 
bear defeat, when we meet with it, as well as to bear 
victory, which is generally harder. Perhaps it is for this 
reason that our greatest rival howling over her defeat 
appears in such a weak, unchivalrous and childish light, 
very much as she did two j'ears ago when howling over 
her victory. It is not intended, nor is it necessary, to 
bring up the arguments, already old, about the Spring- 
field game. But as advocates of a more frank and open 
spirit in contests between the great universities we would 
earnestly reprehend such endeavors as this, to "crawl" . 
out of a defeat and to carp at and disparage a victor who 
has fairly won. We have an idea that it is a far more 
manly and dignified thing when one is beaten to own it, 
and such exhibitions as we have seen lately do nothing 
except make one disgusted with college athletics. 

The writer understands very well that this is perhaps 
somewhat emphatic language for St. EUhu and admits 
that when he sees this in print he may possibly think it 



zedbyGoogIc 



I ro Tkt Yale Literary Magazine. [No. 513 

would have been better to have used milder terms. But 
at present he is quite sure that he will not. 

The Yale Union is growing important again as another 
debate with Harvard approaches, and this importance is 
increased by the acceptance of a challenge from Prince- 
ton. The Union is as yet somewhat of an experiment, 
but a fair field is opening before it if its advantages are 
rightly used and appreciated. Thus far it has sprung 
into life at the time of the public debates and has been 
somewhat neglected at other times. Spasmodic efforts 
will never bring the organization to the standard attain- 
able. The Union is capable of becoming a very powerful 
and very influential body, but before it can reach this 
criterion, college "public opinion" must come to regard 
the art of the orator as it did in the days of Linonia and 
Brothers, or as it always has at Oxford and Cambridge — 
in other words, the good speaker must become one of the 
college ideals. In these days our athletic ideals have the 
highest place, and, admirable as they are, they have 
crushed out many that from another point of view are 
just as admirable and the cultivation of which would 
prove more valuable in after life. The art of good 
public speaking is eminently a gentlemanly and honora- 
ble art and should appeal particularly to college men. 
And almost any college man can train himself to speak 
well if he wishes to. " You must be a good speaker," 
Chesterfield writes to his son. " I use the word must 

because I know you can if you will I call that 

man an orator, who reasons justly, and expresses himself 
elegantly upon whatever subject he treats." This surely 
is an ideal worth striving for. 

Contributions for the January LlT. are due at 126 Col- 
lege street on or before January first. 

The Editorial Rooms are open on the Monday after publi- 
cation from half-past one till three in the afternoon. The 
Editors can then be consulted and rejected contributions can 
be obtained. 



zedbyCoOgIC 



Portfolio. 



PORTFOLIO. 

O'er cloud-nrapl snmoiUs Irips a maid 

As Gclcle as the neather. 
Het silver locks Ihe liimeat biaid 

Ne'er yet could bind (Dgelher. 

Long ere the sun has climbed above 

The mouDlaln heights coofiniog. 
The night wind wooes her with a love 

That finds her of I repining. 

You've heard perhaps her tender sighs 

A-down ihe wind come stealing, 
You've seen perhaps her starry ejea 

A glimpse of beav'n revealing. 

Alas ! (he sun with burning raj' 

Steals kisses without measure 
And, might liiumphanl, bears away 

The night wind's faithless treasure. 

Far, far away beyond the sun 

This maiden hides in wonder. 
Bui when ihe glowing day is done 

Night bursts her bonds asunder. 

She comes, she comes this maiden fair, 

Maid of Ihe mist entrancing. 
The night wind tosses wild her hair 

In joy at her advancing. 

Be kind I praj, Ah! fickle maid. 

May we escape ihy meshes. 
Let noi the sun be oft delayed 

Entrapped in Ihy cool tresses. J. H. p, 

College writers and poets of a century who have given 

us their thoughts of Yale and her campus, have invariably 
dwelt upon the glory of the elms. We have seen them as they 
are when first putting foith their leaves and telling us that the 
springtime is at hand, that season dear to the undergraduate 
heart, of sitting on the fence and campus base ball games ; we 
have seen them in the June moonlight, covering the roofs of 
the old brick row with a delicate network of light and shadow, 
or when the February rain has frozen on the branches and the 
sun afterward flashes from the icy twigs. Familiar, too, is 



zedbyGoOgIc 



112 The Yale Literary Magazine. [No. 513 

their aspect on the day when we return for the new year to 
renew acquaintances beneath their shadow and go on with the 
work we left in June. 

But there is another time when the old trees have a peculiar 
interest for us — when we wake up to a sudden and new ap- 
preciation of their g;randeur. It is the day when we see them 
for the first time in the year covered with the snow. Yester- 
day we beheld them stretching out their bare old arms under a 
grey November sky in Spartan defiance to the cold, or slowly 
swaying before the wind; to-day they are comfortably shrouded 
in a soft white mantle. Their interlacing branches have a 
lazy look through the white blurr that is slowly descending^ 
every where over the campus. They seem to say " Come, Win- 
ter is here and you didn't know it !" and you realize that foot 
ball and campaign excitement are over and the college is about 
to settle down to a routine of quiet work for awhile. The red 
fire which lit up their sturdy columns but yesterday and peo- 
pled the dark r^ion of their branches with weird and fan- 
tastic shapes has died away, and with it the enthusiastic but 
sometimes discordant cheers of triumph that echoed along 
their arches. They are very staid and respectable now, and 
look down comfortably upon the dark figure yonder, who is 
plodding his way along to an early breakfast — the first to dis- 
turb the smooth surface below. A. j. 

" I reckon it's always been thar," a Tuckahoe will tell 

you, should you question him. The old mill stands a crumb- 
ling monument to the memory of the brave pioneers who fol- 
lowed the example of Daniel Boone and struck westward to 
make their homes in the wilderness. 

High on either side rise the mighty mountain walls, dark 
blue in the shadow on the one side, shifting shades of green 
in the sunlight on the other, ever changing with the stray 
breezes wandering up and down over the tree-tops. Only the 
whirring bark of a red squirrel, near by, or the cawing of a pair 
of crows far up among the pines, breaks the monotony of the 
plashing and gurgling of the water as it falls through the 
crevices in the ruined dam. The thick laurel almost hides the 
gray logs of the mill, and the lower branches of a big oak arch 
close above the sagging ridgepole and the curling shingles. 
The water-wheel has broken from its axle and lies half sunk 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Dec, iBg2] Portfolio. 113 

in the stream, half leaning against the side of the mill ; in its 
dark transparent shadow lurk the motionless, watchful trout, 
ready to vanish in a few puffs of yellow mud at a motion of 
the hand. The moss-grown mill stones lie on the brink of the 
stream where they must have rolled long years ago, after break- 
ing through the rotten flooring. The thick loop-holed shutters 
hang all awry from the warped window frames ; within are 
the glimpses of great wooden cogwheels and other primitive 
machinery, all covered with cobwebs. The door on the op- 
posite side is closed and fastened with a thickly rusted padlock. 
No mountain outlaw, straying down the tumbling course of 
White Oak Run with fish-spear or rifle has ever cared to 
force the door. Why should we ? l. d. 

One of the commonest complaints of modem literature 

is that it lacks the true poetic spirit. We have had, it is ad- 
mitted, great masters of poetry, but among the new generation 
there are none who can fill the places left by Browning, Ten- 
nyson or Lowell. Our literature as a whole tends to become 
hopelessly prosaic, and some have been pessimistic enough to 
predict that the gift of song will become a lost art. How can 
we account for this ? Our scientific spirit, the great inventions 
of the day may have destroyed much of the romance of life, but 
there must be some reason greater than these to bring about 
such a result. It would tw hard to attribute it to any one 
cause, but the decay of superstition surely is an important 
factor in the decline of poetry. We have become so highly edu- 
cated that we have no ignorant fancies as the Greeks and 
Romans had before us. We never see satyrs sitting by the 
river banks in the summer moon playing to the birds on a 
reed. As we walk through the forest we never see those lovely 
guardians of the trees, the Dryads. The sea gods do not calm 
the ocean. Neptune does not cause the high tides, for we 
know that the moon, no Diana, but a cold planet does that. 
We smile at it all, yet these superstitions have given to the 
world a large pan of its poetry. If we come nearer our own 
time we see what superstition has created in the great poem of 
the Niebelungen Lied, the ballads of goblins and elves, the 
wild huntsmen of the German forests. How much our poets 
have drawn from these beliefs ! Spencer, Keats, Tennyson 
and many others have received inspiration from this humble 



zedbyGoOgIc 



114 T^ y*^^ Literary Magaeine. [No- 513 

source. In our day superstition is dead, or nearly so, for it 
descends to such trifles as a broken mirror or an overturned 
salt cellar. We cannot always go back to the superstitions of 
the past, for they would become mere conventionalities, and 
so we are left without these fancies. It certainly would not 
be well to return to ignorance, but though our ancestors had 
not our wisdom, they gave much of our poetry, and it is to be 
feared that our age will give no " Lamia " to a Keats, or a tale 
of King Arthur to some distant Tennyson. e. b. r. 

There are still a few places in New England where 

modern civilization in the guise of iron rails and sleek hotel 
clerks, has not driven out the old stage coach and, " Ye Land- 
lord of Ye Inne." One of these is but two miles from the 
railroad and not ten from a large city renowned for its culture. 

Arrived at the station we bid farewell to the present with 
the puffing locomotive and drive back some eighty or a hun- 
dred years into the past on a swaying, weather- scarred coach. 
In imagination the driver's tattered headgear is metamor- 
phosed into a cocked hat, and as we hurry towards the hills he 
talks of the Embargo Act instead of the Force Bill. We pass 
squarewhitehouses, decorated with colonial columns, which ap- 
pear teeming with life of bygone days. A groom in corduroy 
holding his master's horse before the door of one, should be 
dressed in top-boots, blue coat and cockade, and the maid ser- 
vant in the window wear the short skirt and apron of a 
hundred years ago. A buggy driving by is mistaken for a 
chaise. Before the only store a knot of villagers should be 
gathered and possibly more before the white church and its 
neighboring burial ground, over the gate of which is the 
legend, "Memento Mori" — , but where are they ? 

We turn a corner and drive up to the inn, nestling beneath a 
huge leafless elm. The bustling landlord meets us at the 
door and conducts us within, questioning us the while about 
our drive. There in the back room, an old colonial grandee 
should be smoking in the high-backed, cane-seated chair, and 
toasting his feet before the fire, or writing at the green leather- 
covered table. Surely there is one leaning on the mantel, now 
looking down upon the crane and kettle in the blaze, now 
handling the little primitive pewter lamps and asking the time 
of the broken mahogany clock. A farm hand has just come 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Dec. 1893] Portfolio. 115 

into the room and smokes his pipe comfortably ia that cane- 
seated chair before the fire, and the man leaning on the mantel 
is — the bell boy, g. f. d. jr. 

We hear much talk now-a-days about the shallowness 

of our modern life. Nineteenth century cynicism is ever 
referring to the "good old times" and would, doubtless, like 
to satiate itself with stage-coaches and the spinning-wheels of 
our grandmothers, could it worm itself back into its beloved 
past. What is safe from its clutches? Art, literature, our 
forced humor and affected manners have been successively 
attacked, until we sometimes wonder if the times be not 
altogether out of joint. But is it not true that the superfi- 
ciality of our modern life does lead us to overlook much that 
ought to be our most cherished inheritance ? How gladly, for 
example, ought we to welcome that true specimen of the 
gentleman of the old school, whose patterns arc so high that 
he seems to make his own fashions, hour by hour, by living in 
a clear and clean loyalty to himself. That sort of gentleman 
whose qualities, not so well expressed by our modern word as 
by the "gentillesse" of Chaucer, were seen in the knightly 
figure of Sidney or in the splendid ingenuousness of Fox, yet 
when we meet faim, — this rare old-fashioned gentleman, we 
admire his figured waistcoat and large neck-cloth with a sort 
of sentimental interest, but fancy he must be altogether nar-' 
row, because the offspring of another day So we dismiss 
him from our notice and turn again to our aesthetic life, draw- 
ing a long breath of satisfaction, that heaven has preserved us 
from such "fogyism" ; careless of the natural chivalry that lies 
beneath the old-fashioned garments. But if we were better 
able to appreciate those manners that are real and native to a 
man, how refreshing it would be to pass our time in the 
company of one of these heroes ! For they are of the old 
noblesse, — the natural aristocracy. 

Then does it seem absurd to say that our superficial age, 
which is as hurried in its estimates as in everything else, 
sometimes leaves the real man quite out of its calculations? 
Indeed, all the Sir Calidores and Sir Tristrams are not dead. 
" There is still ever some admirable person in plain clothes, 
standing on the wharf, who jumps in to rescue a drowning 
man ; some fanatic who plants shade-trees for the second and 
third generation." r. r. l. 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Il6 The Yale Literary Magassine. [No. 513 

He was a nice old gentleman, good natured and like all 

Germans easily affected. He would sit during an opera with 
his eyes fixed on a certain point in the ceiling, listening to 
music which he claimed to have heard some hundred times, 
never failing to show the proper emotion at the proper place. 
His figure, which assured one of an ability to judge of beer 
and the other articles of a German diet, gave him a certain 
portliness common to his countrymen, while his face bore an 
expression of utter disregard to anything happening outside 
of a yard's range. As he walked down the street, moving his 
cane in a jerky manner peculiar to himself, he was a good 
picture of that easy going, self-satisfied character, the German 
gentleman. 

The work of this interesting individual, if it may be called 
work, consisted of going to market in the morning before the 
rest of the family were up, and of enduring with the aid of his 
pipe whatever sorrows this evil life might prepare for him. 
Partly on account of his early rising, but mostly on account 
of a habit, inherited from a long line of ancestors, our old 
gentleman always showed signs of sleepiness soon after the 
noonday meal. Retiring to a little room in the garret, his only 
retreat from family cares and interruptions, he did not again 
appear until time for his afternoon cup of coffee. Then going 
down into the garden which owed its name principally to the 
unselfishness of the neighboring yards, he would wait for sup- 
per, looking into space or reading the latest news received by 
the town paper. 

So many years had gone by since our friend had begun 
to notice things, that the world was beginning to wear an 
almost too familiar look to his somewhat dimmed eyes. Even 
f€te days and holidays were now unnoticed, for so many are 
the German celebrations and so many had he experienced, that 
he could nearly make up a year out of the extraordinary alone. 
The thing which probably kept him most from entire forget- 
fulness of the world was his custom of making a punch or so 
called "Bowie" on the occasion of certain festivals and the 
birthday of any of the family. Going down into the cellar, 
with a few bottles of white Rhine wine and "fruit of the 
season" he would prepare one of those beverages which leave 
a lasting remembrance on the taste. 

One of the greatest treats was to hear him philosophize. 
On warm evenings in summer or spring a short stroll after 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Dec, i8ga] Memorabilia YaUnsia. \\^ 

supper was the opportunity for lengthy and deep discussions 
on his part, and total acquiescence from his hearers. With the 
stars as an encouragement he launched forth into the deepest 
places of German philosophy. He was a student of Kant and 
Schopenhauer and indeed had a digest of the philosophy of 
both these sages. With quotations from this, a few facts in 
astronomy and an overpowering appreciation of all the won- 
ders of nature, he grew eloquent over the absurdity of others' 
opinions and in many cases of having any opinions at all. 

As the memory of this old friend comes back to me 
together with the many pleasant hours spent in his company, 
he appears the very embodiment of Germany itself. His 
character taken as a whole possesses all the peculiarities of his 
country, the cultured but somewhat rough nature being typical 
of both. The simple ways and philosophy characteristic of 
Germany, and the sensitiveness, calmness, decision found in 
our old gentleman reflect into each other until we can with dtfU- 
culty distinguish between the country and the man. I can see 
him now, waving adieu as the train draws slowly out of the sta- 
tion, and I often wonder how long be stood there after losing 
sight of the last car. r. s. b. 



MEMORABILIA YALENSIA. 
College Conference. 
The thirty-sixth annual meeting of New England colleges 
was held at Williamstown, November 3 and 4 ; Yale was rep- 
resented by President Dwight and Professor Morris. 

University Orchestra. 
The Yale Orchestra organized November 3, and elected the 
following officers : President, B. E. Leavitt, '93 ; Secretary 
and Treasurer, E. B. Lyman ; Director, W. T. Denniston. 

Inter-class Foot-ball. 
The inter>class championship was won by '93, who defeated 
'96, 20-0. 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Ii8 



The Yale Literary MagoBtne. 



[No. SI3 



Championship Football Games. 

The first championship game was played at the Field, 
November s ; Yale beat Wesleyan, 72 to o. 

The second championship game was played at Manhattan 
Field, November 12 ; Yale defeated U. of P., 28 to o. 

The third championship game was played at Springfield, 
November 19 ; Yale defeated Harvard 6-0. The teams played 
as follows : 



Yde. 


PotitloD. 




HinLej, 


Left end, right. 


Hallowell. 


Winter. 


Left tackle, right, 


Newell. 


McCtea, . 


Left guard, right. 


Mackie. 


Stillman. 


Center 


Waters. 
, Shea. 


HickoL. 


Right guard, left, 


Upton. 
( Mason. 


Wall is. 


Right tackle, left, 


( Emmons. 


Green way, 


Right end, left, 


i Mason. 


McCormick. 


Quatter-back, 


Trafford. 


C. Bliss 


R. half-back, 


Lake. 


L. Bliss. 


L. half-back, 


Gray. 


Batter worth, 


Full-back, 


Brewer. 



Referee, Mr. Moffatt. Princeton. Umpire. Mr. Coffln, Wesleyan. 

The fourth championship game was played November 24 at 
Manhattan Field; Yale defeated Princeton, 12-0. 
The teams played as follows: 



Y.Ie. 


Posldon. 


Princeton. 


Hinkey. 


Left end, right. 


Trench ard. 


Winter, 


Left tackle, right, 


Harold. 


McCrea, 


Left guard, right, 


Hall. 


Sllllman, 


Center, 


Balliet. 


Hickok, 


Right guard, left, 


Wheeler. 


Wallis, 


Right tackle, left, 


Lea. 


Green way. 


Right end. left. 




McCormick, 


Quarter-back, 


King. 


L. Bliss, ) 


L. half-back. 


Poe. 


Graves, S 






C. Bliss, 


R. half-back, 


Morse. 


Butterworth, 


Full-back. 


Homans. 


Referee. Mr. Brooks. Harvard. Umpire, Mr. Coffin, 1 


rtTesleyan. 



„db,G(5oglc 



BOOK NOTICES. 

Id tbe huiry and bustle of modern society, an accounl of the doings of our 
ancestors in good old colonial times is tike a breath of air from the hills. 
We never tire of the Aldeos, Williain Bradford, Slandish, John Carver, 
and these, nith other characters. Jane Austin has woven into her collectioa 
of colonial stories* most of which are founded stricll; upon fact. In her 
preface the author lakes particular pains to correct a " sturdy popular error," 
namely, that Gov. Carver left children, and thai one of them, Elizabeth. 
married John Howland, the MaySoner Pilgrim. Notivltbsianding the 
evidence of the stone upon Burying Hill, in Plymouth, erected about forty 
years ago, which declares that Howland married the daughter of Gov. 
Carver, the truth of the matter appears to be that Gov. Carver and his wife 
" died within three months of landing, leaving no children, nor is there any 
reason to suppose that they ever had any." Those who have proudly claimed 
descent from Gov, Carver may not thank the author for her historical accu- 
racy, but at least Ihey may read her stories with interest. 

" Barbara Standish" is a tale of the wooing of the gruff warrior Myles, 
who ia conquered at last when he least expects it. "William Bradford's 
Love Life," "The Last of the Proud Pulsifers," and "The Freight of the 
Schooner Dolphin," are some of the others. In "Witch Hazel" there is 
more romance than the rest possess. Philip, the son of proud Captain 
Randall, against his father's will marries the pretty daughter of Balhsheba 
Hazel, who, it is whispered about, is a witch, although it is Sfty years since 
those persecuted wretches were hanged at Salem, and the spirit of the times 
has changed. Captain Randall disinherits his Bon, and in turn is cursed by 
" Goody " Haiel, who was once in love with him. The captain is overtaken 
by death even as the curse falls upon him, but Wiich Hazel lives for many 
melancholy days bereft of reason. However, " the shadow of this great 
mystery, shame and sorrow was lifted at last from the lives of Philip and 
Belhiah Randall ; and as the years rolled on, and children clustered about 
their knees, and men spoke well of him, and the matrons made honorable 
place for her among them, the old story passed into the dim and almost 
forgotten memories of the past, and the happy present filled all the scene." 

In general, these stories — though of only moderate length, most of them 
having been printed In various magazines — cast an interesting light upon 
life in colonial times, and are well written withal. The reader, however, js 
likely to be somewhat disappointed because there is not more to them. 
The beginnings promise better endings ; the author seems to have relaxed » 
little her hold upon the plot as the story draws to a close. Occasionally 
the conversation becomes rather stilted, and is more bookish than natural. 
Yet, on the whole, these tales are entertaining sketches of colonial days. 
with pages well stocked with the wealth of romance which characterized 
those stirring times. 

• DamdAldtn't Daughter, and Other Siiniei of Celottial Times. By Jane G. 
Austin, author of "Standish of Standish," "Betty Alden," etc. Bostoi> 
and New York : Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Price, (1.35. 



zedbyGoOgIc 



120 The Yale Literary Magazine. [No. 513 

It may be ihonght that old fashioned gardens and ihe fair ladies nho are 
the presiding genius (hereof, have served Iheii turn as literaiy background. 
But the dedicalion of the sloiy, By SuilU Fragrance Held.* shons that the 
garden and beautiful ladji of lis pages have been suggested by the life of a 
friend. In fact, they are used, not as a descriptive episode, but as a center 
about which the events of the siorf in some measure revolve. It is the 
history o( a young girl, beautiful, succesiful and independent, tvho becomes 
btas6 in the coaventional way and finally spends one summer in the country 
with her aunt, who is the Fair Spirit of an old fashioned garden, nhich she 
calls her " sanctuary." Through the rest of her siorj. which is one of Euro- 
pean experience and admiialion of men. the girl is, as it were, held bj the 
"Subtle Fragrance" of this summer's experience, until at the end. after 
having, in some mythical way. lost her properly, she returns and marries the 
stepson of " Lady of (he Garden," 

The most successful things in the story are the descriptions of the Prentiss 
estate and mansion, and of Ihe garden and its Lady. They are full of touches 
of sentiment and do breathe a sort of fragrance through part of the story, for 
in part of it they are forgotten. The picture of the Lady. Lydia Harlowe, is 
perhaps a little vague and rather impossibly ideal, yet with some suggestions 
of the real person from whom ihe writer look the idea of her story, these 
passages show a very pretty and true appreciation of Sowers and (heir 
characters; as when she calls a row of great gladioli, in their uniforms of 
scarlet and gold, her soldiers. The other inhabitant of the Prentiss estate, 
and the fortunate one of liic three knights who are in quest of the hand 
of the heroine. Mr. Prentiss Harlowe, Is very clearly drawn, and is 
evidently the writer's ideal of all manly virtue ; he certainly makes his pro- 
posal in an ingenious and highly improbable manner. The picture of 
Howard Jones, the society man, is perhaps too common to leave much of 
an impressioo. What is really well done In the history of the young girl's 
love affairs, is the way in which she is attracted in each man by some trait, or 
even look or lone of voice, which seems to her to be like her old friend of 
the Prentiss estate. 

Bariam Dmng\ is a sequel to the Quick or the Dead, and he who has 
read the one knows about what he will find in the other. John Dering, or 
" Jock," as he is more often called, is finally triumphant in his wooing, and 
marries Barbara, the widow of his cousin Val. The plot, what little there is, 
centers about the marriage, and the remainder of the book is a chronicle of 
domestic bliss and bitterness, with apparently a little more bitterness than 
bliss. Dering is not quite romantic and sentimental enough to be in 
complete sympathy with his wife, while she is too ready to weigh bim 
silently in the balance with her former husband — whom he resembles in 
everything but disposition — and find him wanting. Indeed, Jock is rather 

Philadelphia: J. 

, -„, -^-— .- Ihe " Quick or the Dead." 

Philadelphia : J, B. Lippioc 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Dec, 1891] Book Notices. 121 

handicapped by having had 00 previous experience in marriage, and cannot 
therefore meet his wife on equal ground. 

" Where (here's a nill there's a way," but where there are Iwo wills ihe 
way is not so plain, and Jock and Barbara seem to have trouble in finding 
it. A long rehcaisal of Ifae faults and tiffs of husband and wife is ralher 
drearjF (o ihe ordinary reader ; he is not interested to know how many limes 
Ihey quarreled, nor how many limes they kissed in making up. There is too 
much effusiveness about the expressions of love, loo near an approach to the 
"gush" of the cheap novel. The author seems 10 forget thai true love is 
belter proven by a little self-sacrifice and a little tribulation than by many 
kisses and many phrases of endearment. The monotony of dialogue and 
description is varied by intioducing Mr. and Mrs. Barnsby, but the same 
theme is harped upon here. Domestic bliss is not found within the walks 
of the Barnsby domicile, and a skeleton is rattling around in one of Ihe 
Barnsby closets. The other personages are lesser lights in this drama of love. 

One cannot help feeling sorry for Barbara. To be sure, her love-making 
is a little peculiar, but her ideals are lofty and Dering is certainty heartless 
al limes, especially when he runs off on a shooting trip and leaves his wife 
and baby daughter behiod, after referring to the child as a " little brat." He 
returns, however, like the passionate lover he is, 10 ask forgiveness and 
slarl again. Here the author leaves Ihem, — " With hands clasped and cheeks 
together they watched the dull rose-hucd edge of (he rising moon peer above 
the violet band of the horizon. In (heir hearts was that deep stillness which 
comes with hope that has outlived despair." 

Am£tie Rives excels in her desctiptions, which are always vivid and often 
overdrawn. Her skies are studded, not with stars, but with fire-balls ; her 
autumn day is a "gray globe of whirling wind," — with Am6lie Rives it never 
rains but it pours. It is this unusual and startling way of putting things 
which may be familiar enough in their ordinary clothing, that makes her 
boobs readable. One is more aroused than pleased by Barbara Dering. It 
is apparently intended to be more or less a treatise on the oft-provoked 
question — Is marriage a failure? — but does not solve the problem. It 
rather leaves the reader to find this out for himself, which perhaps after 
all is the best advice. The every day world has hardly been taught a moral 
lesson, nor has Ihe world of literature been enriched by the advent of 
Barbara Diring. 

The last writings of a favorite author, the last edition of his works, or, it 
may be. a posthumous publication, are received as the author's final legacy 
and treastired accordingly. If it be possible to increase the love and 
reverence in which the memory of the poei Whittier is held by (he American 
people — who were his friends as well as his readers — his last poems, 
published tinder the title of At SuHiown,* will serve that end. No more 
appropriate title could be chosen ; these poems were most of them written 
very near to the sundown of the poet's life, and are filled with a calmness 
and a sweetness of reflection which inspired thoughts not darkened by 



zedbyGoOgIc 



122 The Yale Literary Magazine. [No, 513 

any naelancholy forebodiogs over the approaching shadows. Whittier's 
weight of fears was not a burden (o him, bul rather a source of quiet con- 
tenimenl. He says in "Ad Outdoor Reception " — 

" I Icecp in age as in my prime. 
A not uncheerful step with time. 
And, grateful for ail blessings sent, 
I go the common way, content 
To make no new expeiimenl. 
On easy terms with law and fate, 
For what most be I calmly wail, 
And trust the path I cannot see, — 
That God is good sufficeth me." 

Other poems in this collection are " Christmas of 18SS," " The Captain's 
Well," " To Olivet Wendell Holmes," " Burning Drift Wood." There is a 
touch of sadness running through many of the poems, which is as beautiful 
as the poet's lile was beautiful, and is not inconsistent with a spirit of will- 
ingness to meet death. Perhaps no words of Whiitier belter sound the 
thought of his closing days than the last two stanzas of " Burning Drift 
Wood:'— 

"I know the solemn monotone 
Of waters calling unio mc ; 
I know Irora whence the airs have blown 

Thai whisper of the Eternal Sea. 
As low my fires of diift-wood burn 

I hear the sea's deep sounds increase. 
And, fair in sunset light, discern 
Its mirage-lifted Isles of Peace." 

At Sundown was privately published in a smaller edition in i8go, for 
Whittier's personal friends, but, owing to a persistent demand, it has lately 
been produced, with additions, in its present form. It is daintily bound in 
while and gilt covers, with nine delicate illustrations by E. N. Gatretl. 

Among the new text books published by the American Book Company is 
AmerUan Mental Arithmetic, by M. A. Bailey, A. M.. Professor of Mathe- 
matics in the Kansas State Normal School. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago. 
American Book Co. Price, 35 cents. 

The contemporary tendency in literary form has certainly set strongly 
towards extreme brevity. The novel is pushed aside by the short story, 
becaiise busy men must have something short to read. It seems as if finally 
the superlative of literary excellence will be the telegram. We are fairly 
deluged now with slight sketches, " pastels," " vignettes," by whatever name 
you call them \ and Mr. Albee's Prest Idylt* is an individual of this ever 
increasing family. An idyl is strictly the reproduction, in a sympathetic 
and artistic form, of some single mood of feeling. But while this sort of 
writing demands the extreme of literary taste and skill, it seems 10 be 
attempted now by the most inexperienced of writers. The apprentice can 



„db,G(5oglc 



Dec, 1892] Book Notices. tit 

imiuie iho work of Guy de Maupassant. Tha result is naturally stariling. 
Mr. Albee has cerlainly nol the style suited 10 this particular lilerar; form- 
Instead o( being clear and delicate, his raaonet is most peculiarly confused 
and difficult, at times germanic in its obscurity. What place hai the 
following sentence in a "prose idyl?" " Bordered with the finest Mechlin 
lace, which a fair Fleming wrought, bending over her cushion for three 
years, and with a centre of lawn tenuous as woven wind, the queen, darling 
of all courls,having a hundred lovers at her feet, lifts the dainty fabric to her 
eyes and moistens it with six tears," In the midst of the parentheses and 
ablative-absolutes of this remarkable sentence, one Is puzzled to know 
irhetlier it is the queen, the fair Fleming, or the dainty fabric that Is bordered 
with Mechlin lace, and loses sight of the poetical picture of the said queen 
moistening said handkerchief with the pathetic number of " six tears." 

Il Is indeed unfair to quote a rather exaggerated example, but delicacy of 
taste shown in the style is what constitutes the real charm of a successful 
" prose idyl." Some of the moods of feeling of which the delineation is 
attempted in these idj-ls, are chosen with considerable appreciation. But, 
for the most part, they are rather commonplace in selection and treatment. 
The book ia a good example of the evil of the present tendency, attractive 
and tasteful in appearance and literary form, it is really of an extremely 
slight and tenuous character, an instance of how an essentially good literary 
form may be fairly run into the ground. 

The Nandy-Beek 0/ Iditraty Curiosities* by Wm. S. Walsh, is more than 
a compendium of practical quotations; it contains literary allusions and 
references, and is somewhat of a dictionary of slang, though slang can 
scarcely be called literary even as a curiosity. All sorts and conditions of 
information are found here, from explanations of the term "heeler," as a 
ward politician regards it, and a dissertation on "Where did you get that 
bat?" to elaborate treatises on Bibliomania and Cryptograms. Some of the 
longer articles are 00 Bookplates and Binding, Acrostics, Anagrams, Bulls, 
Irish and not Irish; Dedications, Epitaphs, Lost Treasures of Literature, 
Rhymes, Palindrome, etc. 

The author confesses "that in so large a field as is afforded by the 
curiosities of literature, the embarrassment has been mainly that of riches. 
No single volume, nor a dozen volumes of this size, could exhaust the 
material." However, he has succeeded in filling one good sized volume 
with very useful information. The book is made easy of reference by an 
alphabetical arrangement of subjects, with a complete index at the end. 

Short stoiy writing has become such a fine art that the standard should be 
at present rather high, and the public ought to be growing somewhat fas- 
tidious. Consequently, this sort of writing must be judged more critically 
in these days than it was judged several years since. In the highest class 

• Handy-Book of Litirary Curiosities. By Wm. S. Walsh, author of " Faust : 
Poem and the Legend," " Paradoxes of a Philistine," etc. Philadelphia : 
J. B. Lippincott Co. Price, $3.50. 



zedbyGoOgIc 



124 The Yale Literary Magasine. [No. tss 

of short stories to-daj, we csuinot place the Talts of a Garrison Tovm,* 
though maoy of thera are decided!)' interesting and amusing. On the 
nhole thejr are plain, unvarnished, stolidl; English tales, with hardly any 
touches of Gallic taste and art thai creates the chief attractiveness of this 
form of literature. 

The stories treat of the humorous, the pathetic, the weird and also of the 
society life of Halifax, the feminine side of which society must, according to 
this authority, vacillate between adventuresses and prim old Church of 
England ladies. Army life is largely Introduced, as the title implies, and 
the characters consist chiefly of spendthrift young officers, rich girls whom 
the officers are trying to marry for their money, high and low church clergy- 
men, the aforementioned adventuresses and old ladies, and Irish soldiers. 
What pathos there is. is rarely genuine, consequently often absurd, and 
never gracefully treated. One of the best stories closes when the chief 
character suddenly fails dead, with no apparent reason, over the coffin of his 
friend, and the narrative ends with the words r "Mister had gone to join 
Moors and Bessie in the Great Beyond," Such a sentence, though of course 
a very small point, verges more toward the dime novel than toward good 
literature. The effect of such a sentence at the close of a story is very apt to 
destroy anything good that may have come before. We do not attach so 
much Importance to this quotation as a single Instance, but as an example 
of what often occurs In the book. 

In the literature of the day, (be young woman who is wedded to ber art 
and is an enthusiast on the subject of Platonic friendship, is somewhat loo 
often lurnished for our inspection and study ; but in Vfiniirborough^ her 
charming disguise is more than sufficient excuse for her reappearance. 
She is literary, though bright, vivacious, clever and unaffected: strong- 
willed, independent and utterly incapable of observing the conventionalities 
in her likes and dislikes, though affectionate, tender and loyal — in short, an 
extremely attractive bipidle of pleasing contradictions. Her character of 
course forms the one strong point of the story — and this singleness of effort 
In description shows the clever touch of the author — and it gains an added 
emphasis from the colorlessness of the men and women who form the back- 
ground. The scene, a typical New England village, is fitted with the same 
threadbare stage accessories which have done duty for hundreds of similar 
performances, — neither Intricate plot nor unusual incident hide the main 
purpose of the story ; and the details, lightly though carefully sketched, are 
of value simply to elaborate the picture of the heroine. 

Assistant Professor Grnener, who is well known to all of us, has just 
Issued, through Glnn & Co., an edition of Gotlfreid Keller's Dittegen,X with 

* Taks of a Garrison Tbjbh. By Arthur Wentworth Eaton and Craveo 
Laogtteath Betts. New York and St. Paul. D. D. Merrill Company, 
1892. 

\ WiHterborougk, By Eliza Ome White. Boston and New York : Hough- 
ton. MifBin & Co, Price. (1.35. 

X Ditlegen. Novelle von Gottfried Keller, with iotrodtiction and notes by 
Gustav Gruener. Boston : Ginn & Co. 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Dec. 1893] Editor's Table. 125 

introduction and notes by himself. Those who have studied^ under Mr. 
Gruener need not be lold that the notes are clear and happy in phrasing and 
indicate a careful study of lbs novel to nbich (bey are appended. In typog- 
raphy and binding the book is attractive and serviceable. 



Thoughts of Busy Ciris. " Written by a group of gitls who have little time 
for study, and yet who find much time for thinking." Edited by Grace N. 
Dodge and dedicated to the " many girls who are co-laborers in factory, 
shop, office and home." New York : Casscll Pub. Co. 



Co. Price, 50 cents. 

CerinlAia Marazion. By Cecil Griffith (Mrs. S. Beckett), aulbor of " Victory 
Dean," "Nor Love, Nor Lands," etc. Philadelphia; j. B. Lippincott 
Co. Price, 50 cents. 



9 Russell Lowell. Boston and New 



' York : Charles L. 



EDITOR'S TABLE. 

The Editor's Table is covered with a certain species of light literature 
which passes under the various surnames of " Pastels in Prose," sketches, 
and the like. This sort of thing is eminently the literary fashion now, which 
is to run its course and finally be buiied in the dust of years, to be disturbed 
only by the moat ingeniously curious. For what interest is there in a dead 
literary fashion. Its aim, if aim it has, is to be light, delicate, and easily 
digestible, to give one the feeling that it has all been thrown off easily in 
offhand manner, the expression of some passing mood or fancy ; and the 
objects of its worship are Guy de Maupassant, Viellemontel and their peers. 
But, while in ihe hands of these masters of the craft it was successful, in 
lesser hands it is the most fragile and careless sort of writing. This spirit of 
carelessness, this notion that the writing should appear to have cost no 



„db,G(5oglc 



126 The Yale Literary Magazine. [No. 513 

effbrt of thougfat is promineol in all college magaziaes. The notion o( reclin- 
ing in an ea*^ cliair and evolving literary creations by fire light is agreeable, 
but disastrons. Don't be afraid of hard thinking because it is old fashioned, 
For old ^sbioued it ceitaialj is. Meditaiion has lost its meaning of sjstem- 
alic thought and is confused nith the degenerate modern revery. We are 
too busy, 100 little food of seriousness for anything of the sort now. Ii 
belongs to the days of Cotton Mather, Michael Wigglesworth and their 
Puritan forefathers, to the age of powdered wigs, sedan chairs and stage 
coaches. Of his journey from New Haven to New York, Jonathan Edwards 
writes : "This journey I made in two days by coach, having much time for 
pleasant meditation by (he way." And this meant systematic thinking on 
serene subjects such as the " Glory of God " and the " Means of Salvation.'' 
It certainly savors not of the pipe and the Breside but often straight backed 
chair and plain deal table. And there should be something of this spirit in 
all good work of any kind. 

1 often fancy that it is this power which makes the faces in portraits of 
ancient worthies so impressive. There is no escaping their serious eyes 
which follow you to every corner 1 tbey look down from an almost Olympian 
calm as if absorbed in a certain light meditaiion. The same expression would 
be ridiculous on the face of a modern banker. In an idealizing mood we 
may fancy meditation as an elderly gentleman, " sober, steadfast and severe." 
clad in decent and scholarly black in the fashion of times gone by. walking 
slowly in some old garden ; a garden where one finds a sun-dial, and urns 
with lugubrious mottoes from Horace and Martial, where a shrine to a 
Dryad meets one at the turn of a corner and a grotto like Shenstone's. We 
see him disappear slowly down the smooth box-rimmed path, finally he is 
lost to sight behind an old yew. And what modern character has come 
forward to assume his place? Shall we say it is Revery, fair maiden with 
dreamy eyes and cool flowing garments ; or some stout genius of loafing 
whose thoughts vanish in puff's of smoke. At all events he is missed, and 
the truth of the good and ancient adage, "easy writing makes cursed hard 
reading" is plain. It is as sure as Newton's laws thai writing shall exactly 
reflect the thought which has been spent upon it. Which xreal principle must 
surely in time vindicate itself and destroy the present fashionable sort of 
careless wandering writing. 

The departments of the exchanges which are devoted to short pieces are 
full of this cheap sort of work this month. The stories loo ate nearly all of 
this style with the exception of a very good one in the Harvard Monthly" 
'' The Awakening of Hargrave." This same magazine has a suggestive and 
rather original literary article, entitled " Notes on Keats." About half of 
the Atlantic Monthly for December is made up of contributions of serial 
articles which seems a very unsatisfactory form of literature. There are two 
good stones, "A Morning ai Sermione," and "The Wiihrow Water 
Right," and a lurid article, on "Chocorua at night." We have looked 
through the exchanges in vain to find poetry, for there is scarcely any pub- 
lished this month. The Election and the Football seasons are not very 
poetical topics. The following is part of a long poem in the Harvard 
Monthly. 



zedbyGoOgIc 



Editor's Table. 



A dull, a dreary aflernooD, 
The wind blew on iheit lee, 

And the island laf like a mist of gray 
Upon the leader sea. 

A dull, a heavy afierDoon, 
And near and near they came, 

Till the Sirens' isle lay like a smile 
Upon a sea of flame. 

And all loo soon, borne by (be wind, 

There came a lovely strain 
That seemed to heal what each did feel 

And near and near the fated ship 
Moved slowly with the tide. 

Nor any oar behind, before, 
Strove from her sloping side. 

And near and near and neater yet, — 

She beats upon the strand. 
Push as they may, all night, all day. 

She founders on the sand. 



WAITS FOR ORDERS 

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and suggestions valuable to intending purchasers of holiday 
gifts. 

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The Yale Literary Magazine, 

And soft and sneel as a foiiy bell 

Rings oul the SiieDs' song, 
O'er hill aad dell the echoes swell, 

And throb the coast along. 



The wind is sadly sighing round us now, 

It seems to say, " O leaves, prepare ye all 

To change your brighiness for a funeral pall ;" 
Before ihe cold wind's breath our forms me bow. 
When lovely Spring our color did endow, 

We did not think, responsive lo his call, 

That we should gladly welcome (his our (all. 
And make a faded wrealb for Eanh's cold brow, 
Thus in a measure pay the debt we owe. 

And so we Sutter faintly to the wind. 

And beg of him he will not pass us by. 
Bui waft us downward to the earth below. 

Nor leave us here on cheerless boughs behind 

Our kin, whose forms in winter quiet lie. 

— Cornell Magaant. 



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TioouA. Wash., June 24. ISSO. 
Mr. H. 8. HioBT : Please send lu, by mail, one dozeo Hlgby's Denttfrloe. Dr. 
KellOBK bBS moommeaded It very higbl; uii] wantg ue ta order it tor him. 
Very reepeiitrullr, 

Su^TDKN & Wtmkoop, DruKKlsta. 

JOHN J. KENNEDY, 

IMPORTER N^^ TAILOR, 

864 Broadway, - New York. 

'93 A., '93 A, '94 A., '95 A. 

'92 S., '93 S., '94 S. 

Go to Robinson's Tale Hair Cutting Parlor, 

Opposite Art Scliool. 

JAMES W. BRINE, 

leu's Feroisig, Sportiig li Gjiniiaiii Goeis. 

10O4 & 1006 Chapel Street, New Haven, Conn. 

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YaU Lit. Advertiser. $ 

Do you own a set of DICKENS 
that you are satisfied with? 

If not, this anucnmoement will be of interest to yon. 

We luve eompleted airaiigemeata by wMoh we are enabled to deliver to 
TAX£ STUDENTS, at the rate of fonr Tolmnee a moatli—tlitiB diyidiug the 
expenee thioogh the year — what Ib in many BBaential Teepeote 

THe tnoat aati^at^ory edition of IHcketM' Works for th^ 
general reader ever pUbUshed. 

It is the new Boutehold edition, printed from handsome new type, large 
aoA clear, and UlnBtrated with etceingb and engraringH by CRniKSKANS, 
Smoi7B, H. K. Bbowhb (Phw) Bashabd and others. The TolnmeB are 
about the size of the favorite old HouaeKoid edition which haa been ont of 
print for years, but the type larger and the iUnstratioae better and more 

e colored 

DEUVERBD FREE IN NEW HAVEN 

Lrees, at the rate of 4 rolamea pei 

0S.OO per month 

e to ltd owner 

This handsome new edition fully meets the demand for a set of Dickens, 
writiuge which should be all that the most exacting could demand in the 
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temptiiig to the eye and one whose convenient size and beanW of type and 
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aathor. 

All orders shonld be filled ont on aooompanying form and addteaaed to 

ESTES & LAXTRIAT, Boston. 



Hbbsbb. ESTES & LAUBIAT, Bobtos : 

I hereby Bnbsoribe and ^ree to pay for, a set of the new Htnueliold 
edition of SI0EE1T8' OOHFIiEIE TBITIHaS, in 48 Tolnmes, to be delivered 
at the rate of fonr volTimes pet month, prioe to be (1.85 per volume. 
Einoloeed please Bud five dollars ($5.00) in payment for the first four volnmee 
to be dellTered tree to my addreea as below. 
Yoon rMpeotfolly, 



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6 Yale Lit. Advertiser. 

F. ABRAHAM, 



Aim JUmjTACmTBKB o 



MEEESOHAUM PIPES A SPECIALTY. 

Special attention given to the manu&cturing of Society 
and Class Pipes. 

2St 27 1 29 Cowrt Street, • - Boston, Mass. 

B«paiilDg promptly attended to. 



DREKA 



Fine Stationery and Engraving House, 

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COLLEGE INVITATIONS 
CLASS STATIONERY 
SOCIETY STATIONERY 
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WEDDING INVITATIONS 
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DIPLOMAS AND MEDALS 



STEEL PLATE ENGRAVING FOR FRATERNITIES, CUSSES 
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All work la executed in tlie esUbUshmoDt under tlie peraanml suparrlaloa of Mr. DrekH, aDd 
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prodoce the neweal tlylei lod moat aitlstic effect!, while our leputuion la ■ Knaruileo of 
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DesiBfiw, Samples and Prices seat on application. 
HALF TONE, PHOTOTYPE AND PHOTO-ELECTRO ILLUSTRATIONS 
fjrnlsh«dfrom photographs, designs sent ut or deiigni furnished byus. 



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Yale Lit. Advertiser. 7 

H. B. ARMSTRONG & CO., 

89, 91, 93, 9S A 97 OXAN6E ST. 

Carpets, Furniture, Upholstery, 

WINDOW AND DOOR DRAPERIES, RUGS AND MATS. 
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CO-OrEBATIVE DISCOUNT GIVEN TO 8TUDJENT8. 

Parker House )^ 

* « TREMONT AND SCHOOL 3T3. 

Young's Hotel ^ 

* o WASHINGTON AND COURT STS. 



EUROPEAN PLAN. 



J. K. WHIPPLE & CO., Proprietors, 

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8 Yak Lit. Advatiitt: 

REST FOR TIRED AND SICK NERVES. 



THE WILLARD HOME. 
Dl A. J. TQlaid, FrofeaKit, VorUt Fmipeot Street, Bmlington, Tt 

FonnerlT knomi u *' The Narr- 
IdB" »nd "RtBt-Cure," The S, 



Weir MlCcheU Reit Tiutmei 



eni]/. Dr. WilUrd b ■ gndunte of 
Vile of the clus of 1S53. ^oi aemt- 
Ir sU ram he wu thi Saperlnteo- 
Atac and Reaident Phvsiclui of the 
Murr Fletdier Hoipitaf.iuid it inuhls 
experience there that Indaced him to 
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roTTT of their 



homes but who fail ic 

suitable provtalon for their iipecial 
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rlih big patiBDts,and li confident that thev 
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at. Pro. Dwigtl gf Yale, Pre9. Bnckham 
9 University or Vermont and Dr. H. P. 

, , Jhe nunc* here employed have recelrsd 

id all other upenHa rcaBoaable. Send for circular. 



y(. JewellePvtovJfale * 
834 ©l^apel Jt. 

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THE OLD ENGLISH DRAMATISTS. 

Bj Jjjat RussiLL LowxLi. Edited bj Ohaslis Euoi Norton, Professor in 
Hamrd nniTerei^. 1 vol. crown 8to. Umfbnn with the Biverside Edltioii of 
Lowell's works, also in &aaj biudiag, $1.26 each. 

OOKTKiim: iDtroduotor; 1 ICwlowe; Webster; Clutimiaii; Beaumont and 
netcher; lUddlebm and Ford. 

In the spring of 1881, Mr. Lowell g»Te six lectures st the Lowell InatttDtSL 
Thej were lajadl; writt^i and were nerer revised ly Uie aathor. Mr. Chades 
Eliot Korton, who has careAillj edited Uiem, says : " They contun such adminUe 
md interestii^ crilidain, and ' ' - - -■ .. . .. - . ... 

ture, that it has seemed to m 

SHELLEY'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Edited, wiQi an lutreductory' Memoir, bj Gbobqi E. Woodbbbbt, Professor of 
litenitare in CtdiunUa College, (kntttiary Edition. Prom new plates, and more 
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(bie published. With anew portrait 4 vols,, crown Svo, gilt top, $1.00. 

PAGAN" AND CHRISTIAN ROME. 

By EoDOLio luHOiAin, author of " Andent Rome in the Idght of ICodem IHs- 
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centuries of the ChriatiBn era, and the tnutalbrmalion of the Borne of the OKflars 
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IN THE LEVANT. 

By CsARLsa DoDLBT WutHBB. Holiday edition, from new plates, with a new 
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HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL ESSAYS. 

Eight vigorous essays on Seward, Hodison, Morris, uid important political sub- 
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PROSE IDYLS. 

A taateAil httle volnme of short essays, ftill of engaging fendes which might 
have been clothed in verse, but are presented in delicto prose, by Jomi Al^. 
Artistically printed. ISmo, $1.29. 



SOLD BT 60OSBELLERS. SENT, POSTPAID, BY 

HOUGHTON, MIFFUN & CO., Boston. 



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CflsTESRlER 



Society Spreads a Specialty. 

825 CHAPEL STREET. 



Importers and Tailors, 

127 Ohxiroh. Street. 

AN ENTHUSIAST. 
Should Paderewski pUy Tchaikowski. 

"T would make me feel sorriski, 
I'd have to leave the operahouski 
And lake a olpofnhiskl. 

— YilUm and Bbu. 



APOTHECARIES HALL, 

ESTABLISHED 1811. 

Surgical Instruments, Trusses. Supporters. 

Elastic Hose, Etc. 

821 Chapel Street, - Ne-w Haven, Conn. 



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13. ESFOSITO, 

"TALE FEUIT STOEE," 

1066 CHAPEL STREET. 






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EMPIRE DTEINO AND CLEANING CO., 

StndentB OlotlieB Oleaned, Djred and Freued at Sliort Notice. 

GOODS CALLED FOR AND DELIVERED WHEN PROMISED. 



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12 Yale ttl. Advertiser. 

PERRY'S 
CARPET WAREROOMS. 

A SAFE AND RELIABLE PLACE TO BUY. 

H. B. PERRY, - 914 Chapel Street. 

F. A. & D. R. ALLING, 



755 Chapel, 98 East "Watei Sts. 
F. A. CORBIN, 

1000 CHAPEL ST., New Haven, Conn. 
WM. FRANKLIN & CO., 

IMPORTING TAILORS, 

Olothi for tlie eomii^ huob now ready. 
40 CetUer Street^ 2feu> Saveiit Conn. 

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G. F. Heublein & Bro. 

dor. Court and Cbnrcta Sts., 
NEW HATEN. 



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BANQUETS 



AFICEK 7HB&VBK IilfNOHES. 



BEOADWAT DBTJG STOHE, 

p. BONNETTE SCHURMAN, 

DRUGS AND MEDICINES 

BreacriptUma a SpteUtUy. 

0~Best Soda ^Watep in To-wn..^ 



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FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL 

MADISON SQUARE, NEW YORK. 

The largest, best appointed, and most liberally managed 
hotel in the city, with the most central and delightful lo- 
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HITCHCOCK, DARLING & CO. 



"Seeing is Believing." 

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30D study lamp. But a good lamp must be 

)le ; when it is not simple it is not good. There 

one lamp that is simple, and it is good without 

: tolerable — 

The Rochester." 

If the local dcalor hasn't Lt w« can send 7011 one by Bzprfln. Wa make 1700 vaTlttiM 
md bave an lUnatntBd catalo(ue that will help you ant. 

ROCHESTER LAMP CO., 42 Park Place, N«w Vork City. 



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YaU Lit. Advertiser. 



> Artlstio Pio- 



Orthochromatic 



Bmnd or Plat«> and Film*, -whicti 

RENDER THE TRUE COLOR VA1.UBS 
in monoohromsa, obviating tho unpleaaant black and 



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■t rellabia fast plata o 
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PHILADELPHIA. 



Said the nidon (mendacious foung Mn.!) 

" I reallj don'i knon what a Krs." 

Her lover, In basic, 

Pul his arm 'round her waist 

And said, gently, but firmly, "Why, ihrs." 

" I'm Id coDdilion," the athlete said, 

Who'd trained for all the lummei ; 
"I'm in cenMSons, sir," replied 
The eretlasting bummer. 



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t6 Yale Lit. Advtrtiatr. 

Tbe Broadiaj ! The Ficcadilli ! Tte London I 

Cftif uid enameled lealbei, lace bala made on theie lasts are popular 

UgM Weight Patent Leather Oxfords, and Pumps for House Use. 
CUSTOM DEPARTMENT. 

The New Haven Shoe. Company. 

SncMcdine W. 8. FENN & CO. 

Onr ColambU Pillow Sttk Corcrine, $3.50 each, it a popular Pillow 
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niFOMTma tailor 

My stock comprises all the Latest Novelties, 

A SPEOIAIiTY MADE OF 

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BOSTON, ICASS. 



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YaU Lit, Advertiser. IJ 

Cavanagh, Sanford & Co., 

Merchant Tailors & Importers, 

16 West 23rd Street, NEW YORK. 



opposite nth Ave. Hotel. 



PAST AND PRESENT. 
Wilh laughing eyes and flying hair 

A gleam of fire in her eyes, 
I think 1 can see here standing there 
Looking down in mock surprise ; 
As she did in the time long ago. 
And again she blows me a dainty kiss, 

As I stand on (he rock below ; 
And again I am Ihronn from ihe heights of blisi 
When she slowly answers, " No ;" 
As she did in the time long ago. 



Amateur Photographers' 

SUPPLIES 

CA.KIX££AS, LEUSISEIS, OUTFITS. 
For Descriptive Catalogue Address 

G. GENNERT, - 54 East loth St., New York. 



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